A Dangerous Game
by funnywithachanceofmurder
Summary: He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly displaying his disbelief. "It's an art showing, Soph. You're an art thief. You don't have to be a genius to put the pieces together." Nate/Sophie. Pre-series. My first Leverage fic. Don't own anything...


"Sophie," he says simply, and, recognizing his voice, she fights back a groan. What is he doing here?

"That's Caroline Ashbury to you, Mr. Ford," she hisses, hoping he's not going to blow her cover.

"Which one are you after?" he asks, cutting to the chase.

"I'm offended by the implication, Nathan!" she says, looking offended, but she is a world-class grifter, so he can't be sure she's really upset.

He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly displaying his disbelief. "It's an art showing, Soph. You're an art thief. You don't have to be a genius to put the pieces together."

"Thief? That hurts, Nate," she says, bringing a hand to her heart. Then, "I do have other interests." The look he gives her almost makes her laugh out loud. "What?" she says. "I do!" she defends herself, shooting him a glare.

He snorts in disbelief. "Sure you do. You're interested in paintings, and sculptures, and jewels…" he rattles off, and she starts to storm away from him. He hurries after her and grabs her wrist lightly.

"Alright, alright. I'm sure you have other interests, Soph… er, Ms. Ashbury," he says with a chuckle. She's still pouting, and he rolls his eyes. "I'm sorry," he adds. She brightens a little at this, but he can see she's still upset. "I heard about the Chagall in Nice last month. Was that you?" he asks.

She grins at this. "It was almost too easy," she admits, not that he can really do anything about it.

"Is there really such a thing as too easy?" he questions, sure that easy must be better.

She shakes her head slightly. "Ah, Nathan. It's the danger that makes it fun," she whispers, leaning in close to him. He fights the urge to react to her proximity, but can't completely stop his sharp intake of breath. It's barely audible, but he knows she'll have caught it.

"Is that why you keep snagging things from right under my nose?" he asks, proud that he managed to keep his voice even. Unfortunately, he's sure she knows exactly the effect she has on him.

She grins. "You certainly are a… dangerous opponent, Mr. Ford," she says even softer than the last time, her lips brushing against his ear. This time his intake of breath is much louder, and he knows she didn't miss it when she chuckles lightly. "Admit it, Nate," she adds. "You like the danger just as much as I do."

"It's my job to chase you, Soph," he says, but his voice is slightly deeper this time and he curses her effect on him.

She pouts slightly at this. "If this was just about the job, you'd have arrested me as soon as you saw me here tonight. Or any of the other times our paths have crossed lately," she points out, and he knows she's right.

"How do you know I'm not planning to?" he questions, trying to save some of his dignity. She laughs at this, like the idea is absolutely absurd. It is, he can't stand the thought of throwing her in jail, but she doesn't need to know that.

"Please, Nathan," she scoffs. "You enjoy this game just as much as I do."

He's playing with fire, he knows, but he can't help the satisfaction he feels when he steps closer to her, and this time it's her breath that hitches in her throat. "Who said it was a game?" he asks, his whisper sending shivers down her spine. He steps back after this, satisfied, and says, "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ashbury," this time at regular volume. She looks taken aback at his sudden change in tone, and he's glad to know that he can still surprise her.

"Mr. Ford," she says in response, nodding slightly at him, and he steps away, moving into the crowd of people surrounding them.

They bump into each other again about an hour or so later. Sophie holds up her hands and wiggles her fingers dramatically at him. "Still empty-handed, I see," he says.

"You sound surprised."

"I know you," he points out, and she laughs slightly. "But you've proven me wrong tonight," he adds. "I guess you aren't here to steal anything," he concedes.

"That means a lot, Nate," she says with a smile. "I'm glad you've finally seen that I'm more than just an appropriator of misplaced goods."

He snorts at her euphemism for thief, but doesn't correct her. He doesn't want to upset her again. "Believe me, I know that there is much more to you than meets the eye, Sophie Devereaux," he admits.

She looks amused at this, but doesn't comment. Instead, she says, "Well, I really must be going, Mr. Ford."

He looks suspicious for a moment, but knows he has nothing on her, so he nods. "You didn't steal anything tonight, but I'm sure that next time I won't be so lucky," he says wryly.

"We'll see," she says, and then she's moving away from him.

"You know, I can't keep letting you escape forever," he calls after her. They both know that he will, but his conscience wants him to at least pretend he's doing his job where she's concerned.

"Until next time, Nathan," is all she says before she disappears into the crowd. He can't help the disappointment he feels once she's gone, and he grudgingly admits (not for the first time) that Sophie Devereaux is much more than just a thief he's trying, albeit not very hard, to catch.

It isn't until the next morning that he realizes the necklace she was wearing was one of the prized pieces in the collection on the display. He knows he should be mad that she managed to con him yet again, but when he realizes the necklace is missing, he can't help but laugh. Sophie Devereaux is, more than likely, going to be the death of him. And he can't really say that he minds that at all.


End file.
